


Partners both here and there

by goddamnitaisha, Skeren



Category: Naruto
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fix-It, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15593097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitaisha/pseuds/goddamnitaisha, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: Kisame survives the 4th War, because in his dying moments he found something to live for: not truth, but Itachi's legacy. Today he finds the most perfect teashop. It would have been exactly to Itachi's tastes. Overcome by nostalgia, he enters. He finds Itachi inside. Is it a trick, trap, or--





	Partners both here and there

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this was a chat roleplay, so there's a lot of POV switching a.k.a. the narrator jumping from mind to mind. We are experienced writers, it's readable. Carry on to heal your shipper heart. #no-smut
> 
> @Skeren wrote Itachi.  
> @GoddamnitAisha wrote Kisame.

Kisame had lied. He had lied to himself, just one repeated lie, about how he felt for Itachi. 

Kisame was in the water bubble and announced his suicide. But now the lie claimed its consequence. For in that final moment, he learned who he really was. He, who had valued truth so highly, did not think in his last moments about the lies he had corrected, or the apologies he had made to the ones he had deceived or killed, or how much he missed Kirigakure. In his last moments, he thought of his Uchiha. Itachi-san's face was as vivid as the times he'd been with him. He then learned that he was still in love with a long-dead man. The lies that he had told _himself_ for their convenience were now cheating him out a peaceful death. He had never expressed that most genuine part of himself. So his conscience set him straight.

He escaped death. His honor as his swordsman, and to Itachi-san, and to himself, made him dive into a shark's mouth. The rest of the sharks devoured one another.

Some hundred sea-miles further away, he swam out of the shark's mouth. He crawled onto a rocky beach. Panting, he lay on his back. He was alive. He was breathing. He looked up to the starry sky. He reached beside him with his left hand, but his fingers found pebbles. Itachi-san wasn't there. He felt lonely. He now intimately understood that he should express his love, or he would never be at peace. He couldn't show his to Itachi-san anymore, so he sat up, and he set out to find the cause Itachi died for: Sasuke. The little brother would give him resolution.

Now one year later, he had lost track of his goal.

Uchiha Sasuke was un-find-a-ble. 

So Kisame roamed. It's amazing what a missing headband and slicked hair could do to make him incognito. He kept encountering tea cafes.

_I_ _used to visit 'm with Itachi-san all the time. They make me.... happy? Sad? What's the word again for the combination of that...? Smad._

Sometimes he went in. He prided himself on being picky, on knowing exactly what his partner would've liked. So when he encountered the best sweets/tea-cafe, he stopped.

_This. This is it. The perfect one._

No hesitation.

He went in.

He liked wooden floorboards, the smell of Dark Chai Blend and things much too sweet, a wind gong. To complete the picture, he thought he saw Itachi sitting there. At the table, in clothes that made Kisame think, _Yeah, he would wear that._  Kisame had heard about grief and what it could do to people. Sometimes they would imagine the partner still there. He thought he'd gone through the grieving period and come out okay. But now he saw Itachi, and he realized he was not okay.

In the year since the fourth war and the catastrophe that it happened to have been, Itachi had had a lot of time to himself. First, there was the fact that he was considered dead by essentially everyone, which, in and of itself had rather given him breathing room he'd never experienced in his life. It had taken pressure off his health issues that he hadn't even realized needed to be removed. It hadn't _fixed_ them of course, but the rapid progression had slowed to a crawl and so long as he didn't overexert himself and actually _slept_ it was... almost good. He still trained, of course, but he was more careful about it, moreso than he'd ever been. All of that, of course, had led to him raiding one of the Uchiha outposts for funds he'd stashed there from Kakuzu's frightening money efficiency, and well, here he was. With a sweets shop. He made the tea and the onigiri, but someone else had been hired to handle all the rest of the actual _food_. Cooking, after all, had ever failed to really be his best skill. Or any skill honestly. Still, being the owner and sometime helper was far more comfortable for him than actually trying to work on a skill set he'd never had talent in, and led to days like this, where he could sit in the mostly empty shop and just sip his tea while having a snack. He didn't hide his face, because really who would come to the islands looking for him? Thus he was a bit surprised when a distinctly familiar figure entered the place. He'd rather thought himself a lone Akatsuki survivor. His mistake.

 _Itachi?_   Kisame thought. The blood drained from his face. He stared. He let the duffel bag slide off his shoulder, caught it with his hand, and lowered it to the floor. He swallowed. He glanced through the cafe. No other customers. It was perhaps too early. He looked back to Itachi and went to him. "So," he said. He grinned so wide that his eyes became two black bows. "What are you drinking today?"

Itachi blinked once at the... oddly cheerful but _wrong_ question. Kisame didn't look _right_ when he asked it, like he was feigning his happiness and that was... Well. That _was not Kisame_. Rather, it was, but not a Kisame face he'd ever seen as the man had always been rather genuine with his emotions. At least, he'd always presumed as much. "You aren't actually happy to see me." Getting up, he gestured for him to sit and moved to the counter, reaching over it and collecting another cup and the teapot before coming back and pouring Kisame a cup as well, pushing it across. "Jasmine."

Shit, Itachi looked... fine? He got up easily as Kisame sat down. Itachi reached out easily with the 'bad' arm. Itachi's ass was fuller. And finding the tea and carrying the pot didn't seem to be troublesome either. Huh, that was weird. Almost as if he could see. "Hey, listen." His smile faded at the just correction. "Either I'm mistaking someone else for you, or you're a figment of my imagination, or Madara-sama finally succeeded with this Moon's Eye plan -- in any case, this is the moment where I get to celebrate and indulge. So do a really Itachi-thing for me, will you?"

Itachi just stared at him for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes in exasperation for a moment. Honestly, those were _not_ the only options, and he thought he was handling this far better than his partner. Opening his eyes a moment later, he gave him a narrow-eyed stare that spun briefly Sharingan red before fading back to the black he'd used so rarely toward the end. "Drink your tea Kisame."

Kisame sighed in a relief. Yeah, that was Uchiha Itachi for him. He shifted on his seat, glancing down, and pulled the teacup towards himself. Now he exhaled a smile, and it was a real one. "Thank you." For the tea, and for that.

He just shook his head, moving back around to his seat and picking up one of the red bean mochi he'd been nibbling on before Kisame came in. There was no rush to figure anything out, no, but if Kisame had survived, as had he, was there more of them? He wasn't sure the idea appealed. "You were surprised by me."

He turned the cup in his hands. It was so tiny. Turned it like a gear. He lifted it, blew on the surface of the tea. Did Itachi-san really want to get into this conversation? Now? Or was that himself thinking up that his partner would push him like this. "What gave it away this time?"

He gave him a look that clearly questioned what part of it _hadn't_ , but otherwise said nothing, instead simply taking another drink off his tea, gaze never wavering from Kisame's face. He didn't need to explain, he was sure.

Kisame wasn't as smart. He took a moment. Itachi was looking at him with some sort of expectation, and he didn't look back, until he did, and their gazes met. Staring into Itachi's eyes made him feel (for the first time in years) that someone was looking back. Then it sank in. "Oy! You can see now?!"

"I was never entirely blind Kisame." He inclined his head the slightest bit, but sighed regardless, letting his eyes spin up into his Mangekyou... which didn't look like it used to at all, the three blades having spun out into six which were between the loops of the flower of his brother's original Mangekyou. In all, it looked more pretty than the original three blades alone had. He took another sip of his tea as he let his partner examine the change.

Kisame did look. He felt... special that he could see these eyes and not be afraid. He knew how dangerous they were, and knew that Itachi wouldn't use them on him -- except when _pushed to do so_ in a spar. He put his elbows down on the table and shifted to the end of his seat. He leaned in close, as close to Itachi as possible, until they were almost nose to nose. The pattern was... pretty. Kind of like a scribble. _You were blind enough to have to depend on me,_ he thought warmly. "What's this one called?"

"Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan. My vision will no longer deteriorate at this stage." The words were low, and he didn't put them away, willing to admit that Kisame's fascination was... pleasant. He could tell the man understood the significance of him quietly sitting with them on and he could appreciate that.

"That's good. It's like a reset, then. Next level. I am really happy for you, Itachi-san." He could appreciate this. It was like showing a new and better sword, but then as a bloodline trait. He meant to comment on the shape of the pattern, but instead of 'they are', he said, "You are very beautiful, Itachi-san."

His eyes widened minutely at the comment because it wasn't exactly Kisame's habit to comment on his appearance. In fact, he couldn't recall him ever having done so outside of a battle context before when it wasn't about his _health_. He straightened in his chair as his eyes spin down to a normal Sharingan, the only real indicator of his bewilderment as he gathered himself. "Indeed."

Itachi's startled reaction (because to Itachi's standards this was akin to normal person's gasp and a stumble back) made him realize the slip of his words. "I, eh, I meant to say, your eyes are pretty. But that does not take away the rest of you too." Taking the compliment back now would be insulting. Besides, it was true. He hoped Itachi wouldn't take this as gay. He had not meant it to be gay. He was very bisexually gay for Itachi but that didn't mean the compliment had to be -- though it had been.  "I know you know you're pretty. Could you do me a favor? Could you say, thank you Kisame, when I pay you a compliment? That habit of politeness would make me happy."

"Your comments on my appearance are usually less complimentary Kisame." He blinked slowly, gaze finally dark again as he collected his tea. "But if you wish for thanks, very well. Thank you."

"Thank you, you're welcome." Silence. "Hey. Did I make you feel that bad?" He asked. "I assure you I never meant you to feel negative about it. Just-... tried to look after you as my partner."

"I was not negatively impacted. I did, in fact, use your comments to cover my previous deficiencies." He quieted then, the smallest of frowns touching his lips before he finished his current cup and set it aside. "I am not, actually, in perfect health now."

"You're not? What's wrong?" He has totally seen that frown. This is Kisame. If anyone's trained, it's him.

"Nothing more than has always been wrong with me. You are aware of the... difficulty I had keeping blood within my person." He touched the corner of his lips. "I am handling the symptoms better, but the cause remains, even after extensive healing."

"Isn't there anyone you could go to? I mean... their war is over. Akatsuki is done. Doctors have a medical plight to help patients, rights? I think they might've sworn a vow."

He gave him a rather amused glance at _that_. As though he'd never gotten it _checked_. "If I were to have the condition corrected I would either lose my ability to use chakra, or I would die."

Then you lose your chakra. "Itachi-san...." He tried. "What do you still need chakra for?"

The stare he gave him was not unlike one would give someone who asked them what the point of breathing was, really. As such, he felt no verbal answer was at all required.

"Well...?" _Go on, assume I'm dumb. I am. Compared to you I am. But I want to hear your self-justification._ He sipped his tea to make sure Itachi knew he was quiet.

He finally sighed, setting his cup down and folding his hands in his lap. "Very well Kisame. As you know, Chakra is a component of life. Without active access to it, while still capable of using hand to hand in instances where it is required, my strength and speed will both be radically diminished, and my Sharingan utterly inaccessible. Studying will become infinitely more tedious due to this latter point. Being unable to defend myself adequately in a situation where I'm recognized by someone less amenable is also... without appeal. I would not wish to even _consider_ my brother's reaction should he find me as I doubtlessly would be returned to Konoha post-haste or at the very least be put under immediate and persistent guard as soon as he realizes I am both alive and vulnerable." He lifted his chin slightly, meeting Kisame's eyes easily, unconcerned. "Alongside these other reasons, I would no longer be able to use jutsu, and you truly have no idea how useful carefully applied Katon is in making the perfect tea."

Kisame rapidly blinked. That all had washed over him like a breaking dam. He backtracked and processed. "I would... not mind staying here with you. Keeping you safe. Hypothetically. I have arguments against many things you said, but really, the Katon argument wins me over. This is the best tea I've had all year. Itachi-san, I think you have turned me into a tea appreciation person. I am no longer able to drink any normal tea and enjoy it."

He inclined his head slightly, satisfied with Kisame's answer and that he didn't intend to argue the matter further. He wasn't, after all, about to change his mind. "Precision is key."

Kisame nodded. He drank his tea. He could imagine Itachi's life like this. Yeah. Easy life, no hassle, just making tea, and the occasional visitor looking for trouble being genjutsu'd into going away. It was a good life, perhaps a piece of heaven. He was still in the mindset that this was all some sort of hallucination or dream, but it looked all suspiciously real? If the Other Folk were playing with him for his soul, then could he still get out? He glanced down to the tea. Nope, he had already consumed the drink with spices. If this was a play from the Others, he would be stuck here in this elf hill for a hundred years. _Well. It's not like I have something else to do anyway, except maybe..._ That brought him to the next conversation topic: "Does your little brother know you're here?"

Itachi looked suitably horrified at the question. "Why would I tell my brother I'm here?"

"Well-," that look made Kisame feel self-conscious and a little bit dumb. He continued regardless. "-when I imagine you 'happy', I sort of... always think of you being with Sasuke-san. Am I wrong? I always imagined you would be happiest with him."

"I-" He paused, sighed, and then swept to his feet, collecting the empty dishes to remove from the table. "Sasuke will never be truly happy with me there to shadow him."

"Hmm. I wonder if this is a sign. I'm on his way to Sasuke after all. What do you think I should do, Itachi-san?" He wasn't sure if he liked being here.

He paused and looked over at him, a frown on his lips then. "He's in the area?"

"No, I'm tracking him."

He blinked very very slowly, then turned and finished his trip to put the dishes away before saying anything more, taking his time about it. "Why?"

"Because of you." Kisame wasn't used to being quizzed like this. He reached up. He pushed his long hair back over his scalp like Hidan would wear it. Then when he was stretched anyway he stuck his arms out and stretched more. "Can't quite leave the business of you and I unfinished, eh. It's not proper. So I'm forwarding it to Sasuke."

He was quiet for a long moment, looking away from him and then finally, _finally_ made his way back to Kisame, lingering beside the table instead of resuming his seat. "So you'll be leaving soon." Because he would be a fool to not see Kisame's restlessness.

"Yeah," Kisame said. No, his heart said. He had his arms in the pose of a letter Y from stretching, and he slowly lowered them. The longer he sat here and talked to Itachi, the less convinced he was that this figure was a dream or hallucination or ploy of myths (about chakra-filled summon animals that hated and played with people). He could not predict this tea person. It felt like his Itachi. It felt so goddamn much like his Itachi. "How does that make you feel, Itachi-san?"

He stared down at him, and a touch of tension showed at his mouth before being smoothed away into that so frequent expressionlessness he hadn't been using for the last several minutes. "You have always done what suits you best Kisame-san."

"Itachi-san," he said. His voice held the defeat. He lowered his arms at the same time. But while one hand ended on the table beside the wet ring on the wood where the teacup had been, the other hand he put on Itachi's shoulder. His big hand covered Itachi's shoulder almost from neck to arm. It was a precious sight, his blue hand on Itachi. He squeezed lightly as if he could pull Itachi back to the here and now. "We both know that's quite a stretch from true."

His lashes swept down at the contact as he otherwise stilled, even his breathing slowing as he carefully determined exactly how he was going to react to that. "I will not prevail upon you. If a tea shop is not to your liking, there is no point in you remaining here."

"Itachi-san." Kisame moved to the edge of his seat to be closer. He shifted his feet over the floor until his calves were on either side of Itachi's feet. There was just so _much_ of Kisame, so much body, and he wanted to be comfortable while they were having this conversation. He was completely angled to Itachi. "Even if I wouldn't like the teashop, heh, isn't there a point to me staying? Really - no point at all?" He squeezed the shoulder like he had done just after Itachi's lie, but this time it was an anticipation on the behavior that was about to come, and a warning to make the right decision.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't make a move to evade the increasing contact. Given Kisame's seated position to his own standing, it would have been simple enough. However, he could admit to himself easily enough that he'd missed his partner. He'd spent eight years living in this man's pockets, and it would be impossible not to have some attachment after that for people more hardhearted than he was. "Are you seeking an excuse to stay or go?"

The thing was, Kisame couldn't win verbal battles with Itachi. Itachi-san was just too good at them, and when he really wanted his way, they went his way. Then Kisame could only follow and later (much later) realize how it had happened. Sometimes it had still felt like he'd been under a spell, despite him being quite sure that Itachi-san respected him enough not to use genjutsu. No, he was a wordsmith. A genius. Always thought ten steps ahead. Kisame couldn't compete. So what should an idiot do? Drag 'm down and down to their bottom level and try to beat him there. The touch was one. Sticking to one topic until he knew the truth, was two. "I'm not seeking those. I've come to consider excuses as just small polite lies." Like the excuse he shouldn't say how he felt to Itachi-san because the man was sick. _Not now, I'll do it later._ or _It would be inconvenient._ or _First I need to know how he feels about Sasuke-san_ Excuses, excuses. He'd never spoken his heart. "I'm seeking an answer from you, Itachi-san?"

"My answer is obvious Kisame." It was a simple, quiet statement, his gaze heavy from under his lashes, a touch of red visible there though mostly hidden. "You do not _need_ my confirmation to decide."

Yeah, this answer was obvious. As obvious as it could be! It was a non-answer. Itachi's perfect immaculate mask. Guiding words. Neutral gestures. The biggest reaction was this non-reaction. Itachi-san was shielding himself, shielding his vulnerabilities, from Kisame. But there was the red of the Sharingan, echoing the days that a glimpse of red was the most Itachi could put in a fight. That glimpse of red had meant, that Itachi felt forced to give Kisame _everything he had_ in a spar. The biggest honor, that look. And also the biggest villain, because it had kept Kisame prisoner. He would feel so much, so worthy, so appreciated, with only a gaze. It had been Itachi's everything. Yet Kisame was human, and he longed to connect. Touching. Intimacy. Love, and he held so much love that he was okay with these signs again. He was absolutely head-over-heels-in-love with his interpretation again. Imaginations. Glimpses. He would betray Madara any day in exchange for this meager treatment. He hung his head. He breathed in through his nose, then slowly exhaled through his mouth. He put his free hand on Itachi's other shoulder. He squeezed. He let go. He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Through his fingers he could see Itachi's nail-polished toes. "You know..." his voice was higher. His throat was thick. As if someone was using a choking wire. His chin gained a tremble. He tried to get rid of it by pushing his lips together. "Maybe I do." And he said, "Maybe I'm gonna need a lot more other stuff, too."

He stared down at Kisame's bowed head, a flicker of alarm coming to life in his chest as he saw the way Kisame started to _crumble_ , heard it in his voice. For all the times they'd gone in circles with words or gestures, for his own safety as much as that of Kisame, this was... new. And uncomfortable. He had no idea what Kisame wanted from him. Reaching out, he carefully rested one hand on Kisame's hair, very gently brushing over the strands. "Perhaps you should be clear?"

"Yeah?" he meant it as a challenge, but it came out like consent. He swallowed. He used the sides of his palms to pinch his nose. Pinching the nose held back the waterworks, one of those lifehack body tricks. Or it may be an urban legend. Placebo? Didn't matter. He used it and tried so hard. Itachi's caress made him both weaker and stronger. It was weird. "I don't want to feel like this. I didn't think seeing you back would be like this." Because only the real Itachi-san could be so distant and even cold. Kisame couldn't make this up. He exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, then his palms, and then the back of his hands. Then the sides of his hands too. He kept his head bowed. "I always feel like you know me, and can see right through me, and can predict everyone from miles ahead. It's not like you to play dumb. It would really help if you would just say it, if you'd please be so kind."

Surely by now Kisame had gotten word of the real cause behind so many of his actions? If he hadn't, he truly had no idea how to even begin to explain. So he didn't. There was no point in bringing any of that up at all, in fact, so he skipped over that topic entirely. Clearly, it wasn't relevant at the moment regardless. His hand remained on his hair, however. "Kisame, you _are_ aware you are welcome to stay, are you not?"

He shook his head. "I know I'm welcome to stay. We're friends. Thank you. But-" Kisame looked up. Then he took Itachi's hand off his head. He held it in his damp hands. Both of them. He ran his thumbs over the back of Itachi's hand. He looked up to the beautiful face, with the ever-silent lips, and the ruby eyes. Ruby eyes... Sheesh, Itachi made him into a poet. "Itachi, listen, I-..." He swallowed thickly. He had rehearsed this a thousand times in his head. And now...? Now he wasn't sure what to say or even how to say it. He just inhaled, felt his chest swell, and he winged it. "-I can't stay. Not as a friend. Not as a former partner. I can't be with you. That isn't what I want. Listen, I'm saying this all wrong. And all of this is a mess. I know I should and shouldn't have spoken up earlier. I have-" He put one hand over his own heart, grabbed the shirt there, clutched it. "-all these feelings inside. It's eating me up. I want to _stay_ with you, Itachi-san. For the rest of my life, if possible. Oh man, I'm going so fast. I'm sorry. My heart's pounding. I mean, Itachi, that I love you. I've been in love with you for a stupid long time. I will only stay here if you want to think on accepting those feelings of mine. I want to be your romantic partner. But before all that I need to hear from you, in no uncertain terms, from your own mouth, that you want me to stay here with you. I need to know if I'm wanted." He took a shuddering breath. "And if you answer with a lie, in any way shape or form, to yourself or to me-" he blinked rapidly to hold the salt water back. "-I will fucking kill you."

He blinked rapidly, honestly stunned by the declarations. He'd realized rather quickly that Kisame was having difficulties, of course, that his presence was jarring and unbalancing, but he had never considered... If anything, his emotions made the tomoe in his eyes spin a bit more quickly, fed by his internal agitation though nothing else showed outwardly. Still, the eyes were a tell, and he sometimes wondered how Kisame had never _noticed,_ because the way he was acting made it clear he _hadn't_. "Kisame... You are _welcome to stay_." He leaned down, making no move to try to take his hand back as he caught his eyes, stared intently back at him. "No matter in what manner you choose to do so."

 _Welcome to stay. Welcome._ Itachi had said, and Kisame had really hoped for at least one answer that was clear. Something he did not have to interpret. _You can stay here, whatever, do what suits you, my plans are different from yours anyway_ was at odds with the way Itachi let himself be touched. It opposed the way Itachi kept looking at him with the Sharingan. Itachi was even leaning in, _I welcome you to stay here with me because I cannot ask this of you, but I will enjoy your presence in any manner of contact, friends... or more._ He had wanted an answer he did not have to interpret, but damn it, forget it. This was Itachi, and Itachi would never be easy. He had never been easy, but Kisame had developed these feelings anyway. This, and Itachi, were the best he would ever get. Because his partner was the best thing in his world. "Thank you," the still seated Kisame pulled Itachi closer by the hand. He let go and wrapped him into a hug, arms around Itachi's chest, thighs squeezing Itachi's legs, and his cheek on Itachi's collarbone. He was smiling, and then grinning, from ear to ear. "That's what I wanted to hear from you. Heh. Heh heh heh." He would stay, as a partner, and as a little bit more.

He huffed a sharp breath, something fond and exasperated, and folded his arms around him, one hand resting in his hair, the other between his shoulders as he leaned into the hug, showing non-verbally what he had no idea how to say. He had never been good at feelings, after all, but that didn't mean he couldn't make some sort of attempt. "You are foolish, Kisame, but regardless, you are welcome at my side."

"I contest that, Itachi-san," he said against Itachi's shirt. He playfully tugged Itachi closer, a little tighter. Dang, this hug felt good. And then he loosened his grip to put his hands on Itachi's hips. "I think speaking my feelings might be the wisest move I've done in my life." He looked up at Itachi from under the hand in his hair, and he grinned from ear to ear.

"Your foolishness was believing I would reject you Kisame, nothing more." There was far too much between them for that, and he regarded him almost _thoughtfully_ after he spoke. After that breath of silence he did something he'd been itching to do since he was a young teenager. He slid his hand down from his hair to his cheek and trailed the pad of his thumb over the gill-like marks on Kisame's face. Delicately, of course, he had no desire to hurt him on accident, but he'd been curious about the things since the first time he'd taken a good look at them.

Kisame shuddered, but kept his face still. Wow, it was sort of... indecently personal to touch there, kinda like reaching to touch his lips or eyelids. Only a thing a partner would do. He supposed that was OK, from now on. Moving his ears was as easy as clicking the gills open. "Yeah, that's how I breathe. I got them at the water temple. That's where I trained and the nin-sharks taught me senjutsu to-..." abrupt stop because he didn't want to tell this part of his history when Itachi was so close and gazing into his eyes like...? Like this. Their faces were close. "Aaanyway, those on my shoulders, yes, those are tattoos." He almost wanted to lift his arm and flex to lighten the mood but didn't move with Itachi's thumb on his closed gill. Motion paralysis was easy to trigger, and he didn't want to give that info away just yet. Plus, Itachi-san wasn't going to... _or was he?_

"I would have thought the reverse true given the proximity to your lungs." It was a murmur, quiet as he categorized every one of Kisame's reactions to the light touch, knowing he'd review them later. For now, the Sharingan was tracking the fine details for that perusal for him, and instead, he could focus on Kisame's general _state_. "Would you rather I not touch?" He followed the question with a delicate brush of fingertip from one end of the gill he'd been examining to the other, still gentle, but prepared to pull away if it was disturbing the other man.

"Nah, it's fine. It's just that they're sensitive, kind of... like your lips are sensitive after a lot of kissing. Wait. You wouldn't know that. Sorry, wrong example. Well, when you kiss a lot, your lips get tingly and sensitive, and it also can turn you on. But just some stroking like this is fine, it's intimate but it's not sexual. It doesn't hurt or anything. It feels.... feels kind-of nice when you do it." This proximity had an effect on him for sure.

"Kisame, I _have_ kissed someone before." There was the faintest color of amusement in his tone then, and he stared into his eyes for a beat before turning his gaze back to what his fingers were doing. He finally drifted the touch from directly over to the skin near them, putting a touch more pressure now that he wasn't directly on the delicate area. "Though anything further, no, I have not personally indulged."

"Mmm, sex feels really good, I definitely recommend trying it. I like it very much." He felt silly for saying this because he hadn't gotten laid in... a long time. Perhaps three brothels and a one-night-stand since he'd partnered up with Itachi so many years ago. _But before that,_ he thought _I was a beast!_ He couldn't stop smiling at this light stroking. It put him literally in Itachi-san's palm. When their eyes met... it made him feel very self-aware in the good ways. He felt how close they were. The touching in this manner was new. He wanted to get used to it. He rubbed his hands over Itachi's hips, from the thighs to the waist, a few times.  
"Who is the person you kissed?"

"A girl from Konoha. I was curious and she was very flagrant in her interest. She was dead before we met." He moved his other hand, mirroring what he was doing on one side of his face on the other. There was a long breath of silence, but not quite long enough that Kisame was the one to break it. "Are you describing physical intimacy in hopes of enticing me?"

"Nah," he said. Itachi-san's formality couldn't deter him. Robot-like? No, Itachi-san was invested. He always got more formal and logical when he was invested in learning something new as if life was a puzzle rather than a maelstrom. And then, with a toothier grin and lean-in movement that cast a shadow over his eyes, Kisame lowered his voice. Now it was a low rumble, a promise: "When I flirt with you, Itachi-kun, you will _know_."

He canted his head to the side, his hands sliding to Kisame's jaw with the move so he didn't poke him anywhere unfortunate. Humming lowly, he released a soft sigh of a breath. His tone didn't change inflection in the slightest, though he hadn't looked away either. "A shame. I intended to tell you to simply ask."

"Heh," Kisame said. He slid his hands around Itachi's waist and grabbed his own upper arms, literally boxing Itachi into a square of muscle. Itachi's sigh had sent his breath over Kisame's face, smelling sweet, tickling his nose. The naughty darkness disappeared from his face. Now it was just a smile of a best friend with a lifelong crush. "You're always thinking about others, Itachi-san. About your little brother, me, the Leaf, and even random ninjas that I nowadays automatically hold back from -- because of my time spent with you. So considerate of everyone... except yourself. That's why I won't ask, you'll give yourself away cheaply. I want you to be selfish. That's why earlier I wanted you to tell me that _you_ wanted me to say. Your wishes are important to me. That's why I want you to ask me. "

"I see." He had narrowed his eyes though, a flicker of irritation in his expression before he smoothed it out. Obviously, Kisame was not grasping at the invitation that the statement was supposed to imply in the manner intended. Instead, he slid his hands up, cupping his face properly and pressing carefully at the corners of the gills on his face as he tipped his head up so that there would be no awkward maneuvering. "I promise you, I did not say such a thing out of _generosity_."

The flash of irritation, the Sharingan, the control, and then that intonation. Kisame knew he liked Itachi's leadership, but only now learned just how much he liked it. The fresh sweat clung to his back, and he was rightfully intimidated, but.... damn. "Then I'll. . . Let you know," he said. "Let's take it casual. I don't know you this way yet, and you don't know me like that. But, I am looking forward to all this." Fear? None.

He stroked his fingertips along his jaw, then finally shifted the touch to something a bit less threatening. Sort of, given one of his hands wandered to rest on the side of Kisame's neck as the other tangled in his hair. Still, he was satisfied by whatever he saw and dipped his head, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. "Very well. You have what time you need."

Kisame felt his forehead burn, and he wouldn't be surprised if his face gained a slow burn, too. He stood up, pressing against Itachi, towering over him, casting a shadow. He cupped Itachi's face back. He tilted it up. He leaned down-down-down. He gazed into Itachi's eyes. "Are you sure? Because then I want to ask you something."

"Of course." He never did anything by _halves_ and it made him wonder how Kisame could possibly forget this. Perhaps he'd been away from the taller man for too long?

Kisame kept his eyes on Itachi. He reached back with one hand, to his weapon pouch. He pulled out a well-decorated kunai, one with silver grooves that would channel any blood away from a wound. With a minimal flick of the wrist, he flung the kunai into the table, the sharp weapon embedding itself so deep into the wood that an inch of the tip came out on the other side. The shinobi from Kirigakure used weapons for these requests, to signify that _the rest of your life_ really meant that. "Itachi. Will you marry me?"

He looked over at the table, a mix of displeased and content. "You didn't need to stab my table Kisame." Then he looked back to his face, leaning up on his toes and pressing a kiss against his jaw. "I accept your proposal."

"Yes! Heh!" Kisame grinned from ear to ear. His mouth was open, teeth sharp. He breathed a laugh. "I did need to. Now everyone that comes in immediately sees how it is." He pushed some hair behind Itachi's ear. He cupped the cheeks, stroke his thumbs over the lines under the red eyes. It truly was special that Itachi let him be so close -- so close to the pretty Sharingan, too. _Someone so beautiful shouldn't be with someone looking like me, but damn, I am lucky._ "I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay. Don't move in on your own. I want to savor this."

He huffed a breath and simply tipped up his chin. "Sentimental. Very well. If you insist." Yes, Kisame could easily put out his eyes, but he wasn't oblivious to his own overtures previously. After all, Kisame was not a man without vulnerabilities and he knew that perfectly well. In this, he rather thought the trust was reciprocal.

Kisame's smile faded. He steeled. He pushed a hand through Itachi's hair. He grabbed it at the back and tugged hard. His hand made a fist. If it meant to cause a pain or not remained unclear. "Don't. Don't be degrading about my love. Don't put negative values on it." He meant the huffing, the comment. "You're cold and cruel sometimes, as am I, but you're not thoughtless. Being rude to me, or about how I feel, makes me sad. It stomps on our partnership and on you - while I think you're the best thing in the world. So that really puts me off." He had really wanted to kiss Itachi before. Now? Not so much.

Kisame might not have chosen the right venue for expressing his displeasure in a physical manner. Yes, it startled Itachi, but his breath also left him in a shaky rush as his hands twisted in the material of Kisame's shirt in reflex when his knees went weak. Whether he meant to cause pain or not was rather immaterial given his _actual_ reaction. "Sentiment isn't inherently negative Kisame." And yes, his tone was a touch breathless, but he didn't bother to clarify more, nor to apologize, staring up at him with red from under lidded lashes.

"Yeah?" he said, "well," and he looked at Itachi's relaxed face and his open mouth. "that's good." Pause. "Because I'm sentimental often." He increased the pull to make Itachi arch to him, and go up to his toes. This was easy. This was a fun thing to do, and he grinned. "I think we will get along then."

The gesture drew a very faint sound from his chest, fingers tightening on cloth even as his eyes narrowed, contradicted by the very faint flush rising across his cheeks. "That was ever the thought, yes." And really, he was aware his tone was probably making him impossible to take seriously, but he wasn't _too_ worried about it at the moment, though he did at least give a bit more of a try. Even if his body language was currently rather accommodating.

Dang, Itachi-san's submissive side looked really hot. It sparked a reaction in Kisame. Heat and power and the promise to be very careful with this fragile fiancé. He looked down, mesmerized. He put his fingertips under Itachi's chin, and stroke with his thumb from one side of the soft bottom lip to the other side. He pushed one knee between Itachi's thighs. He moved back and leaned in, this time for real. This was his moment, their moment. It began here, and it would last until a final death made them part. His lips were close to Itachi's.  
Then their lips touched. He pressed his mouth lightly down, and then firmly. He loosened his grip on the hair to wrap his arms around Itachi and hold him. This was the kiss he had been saving up for years, now finally, and he held this thought with an inward smile, a reality. He was kissing(!) Itachi at last, and he could not be happier.

The release of Kisame's grip let him get some of his equilibrium back, though even that required a bit of care because of the position Kisame had pulled him into. He was barely on his feet between the rather nice thigh he was tugged against and the hand at his back. Not that he was paying all of _that_ terribly much attention as the kiss was _interesting_ and figuring out how to return it without cutting himself on Kisame's teeth was rapidly becoming a fascinating challenge he rather wanted to attempt. After all, the kisses lingering at chaste and sweet wasn't a _requirement_ he would hope.

Chaste and sweet was all Itachi got for now. Kisame nipped, and kissed, and all was well in the world. But then he felt his partner getting into it, and he leaned back just a little. His lips brushed over Itachi's but barely. He whispered: "Careful. Don't cut yourself. These babies are razors."

It was as though Kisame was living to thwart him at the moment, wasn't it? "I'll learn." And learning sometimes meant nicks and cuts before one learned how to handle something sharp the right way. Regardless, he didn't fight Kisame to re-instigate the kiss, even if he was less than thrilled it had been cut off.

"Yeah," Kisame said, exhaled, and then _drew a line_ . "Practise some other time. Don't take any chances now. Careful." He put his lips down to continue the kiss, smiling when he felt Itachi's mouth. He licked over his bottom lip, nipped. He was at ease again.

Itachi huffed sharply, but settled in his hold, holding still to let himself simply _be_ kissed as clearly Kisame wasn't amenable to reciprocation at the moment. That wasn't to say he was bad at it, no, it felt very nice, but he was rather put out by the insistence he be a passive participant.

Itachi was pouting now, subconsciously or not, and Kisame could feel it in the kiss. If Itachi had thought that holding still in this kiss would be a turn-off, then he was wrong. Kisame had often thought of kissing that still face, the mask. And being able to do it now, safely, mattered far more. If anything, it was quite an indulgence to do this. He'd said careful, not said stop. He would just kiss until he drew reactions.

Itachi was pouting now, subconsciously or not, and Kisame could feel it in the kiss. If Itachi had thought that holding still in this kiss would be a turn-off, then he was wrong. Kisame had often thought of kissing that still face, the mask. And being able to do it now, safely, mattered far more. If anything, it was quite an indulgence to do this. He'd said careful, not said stop. He would just kiss until he drew reactions.

He could tell that Kisame thought his reaction to being chided was amusing, and he held out for a _bit_ longer before making another attempt. Simply because he didn't have a great deal of experience didn't mean that he appreciated being chided repeatedly. If he did it again, then he was going to go get tea and damn the overtures for the time being.

Itachi wasn't listening. Kisame had drawn a line, and Itachi still stepped over it. So Kisame pressed the rows of his teeth shut, only offering a few seconds of lip action. He held Itachi a little bit looser. His hand stroke over Itachi's body, to settle on his shoulders each. Then he gave a small peck, a second one, and an even more chase last one. That was a good way of rounding it off. He leaned back a little, and looked down on him with a smile and the softest gaze. _I kissed him at last._ That felt good.

There was a long beat of silence, Itachi staring up at Kisame as he turned over the way that had just been handled. The reaction was irritating, perhaps a touch insulting as well, but he said nothing, instead cocking his head to the side and waiting to see if there was anything else Kisame cared to make of the moment since he clearly had very firm ideas of what it should be.

Kisame reached up. He tugged a strand of hair behind Itachi's ears. The rest of the world slowly faded back into reality. The clock on the wall, the glistening kunai, the wind blowing outside. They were part of a beautiful world.

Huffing a breath, Itachi took the touch as a concession and turned his face toward his hand, letting his eyes slide closed. There was no point in being irritated if Kisame didn't even notice he was, and he had long learned not to waste his energy.

Kisame replied to that. He ran his palm over Itachi's cheek. He hooked his pinky finger under the jaw. Soft caresses. He used the tip of his middle finger to trace the outer rim of Itachi's ear. "Was that your first kiss as adult?"

His eyes cracked open again, dark under his lashes instead of crimson, and he hummed once, a light affirmative. "In terms of physical maturity, yes."

The black eyes made Itachi look really pretty again. He liked the black, too. And shushed the awareness that he always had in the back of his mind when the Sharingan was activated. Care for himself, and care for Itachi's wellbeing when using it. "That makes me happy. It's kind of romantic, don't you think?"

Itachi blinked slowly, not... really sure how he got that. Kisses weren't, in his experience, inherently romantic. "In what context?"

"The years of partnership, and my one-sided crush. And then tragedy, but now we've found each other back and instantly became engaged, and we did a first kiss today. It makes me feel special that since we met, neither of us enjoyed romance with another person. As if this is fate."

Itachi stared at him for a long moment, then finally lifted a hand from his shoulder and cupped Kisame's jaw. "I have always regarded you as exceptional, and you have had my trust as much as any could."

Kisame leans back. He unlocks himself from Itachi's touches, and he turns away just enough so he doesn't elbow Itachi in the face when he lifts his arm to runs his sleeve over his eyes. He feels the words echo through him and settle in every fiber of his being. All at once, the two greatest injustices in his life, have found a resolution in a happy ending. It makes his throat thick and his eyes water, because he never thought this day would come -- a day where the world would reward him. All the things he'd done wrong, they were forgiven, eh? He takes a deep breath. He swallows. Then he looks back, with a big grin on his face. "Hearing you say that... makes today really the best day of my life!"

The words got an odd look out of him, the tiniest touch of incredulity with a bit of understanding as he petted his cheek. He couldn't say he didn't understand. Happy moments in their lives had been... sparing. "As you say Kisame, as you say."

**Author's Note:**

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